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“So here’s the deal, Vicky. We seem to be in a bit of misunderstanding.” The Grandmaster gripped and twisted a bit of the fur on the outskirts of Victor’s bald spots. “What are you?”

Victor twitched tiredly and breathed out, there were a million answers to that question and he was fairly certain anything he said was the wrong answer so he clamped his mouth shut and waited to see what exactly it was the Grandmaster wanted from him.

“Ah... so you do have some brains in there past all the testosterone, mm? Very well. You, my dear Sabretooth, are a  p e t. A marvel. Something for others to find pleasure in.”

Victor blinked and slowly looked down, it wasn’t the worst assessment of his character, if he was honest. He’d been called far worse, treated far worse too, but again, that was if he was honest.

“So you killed one of my minions. That’s not very... pleasurable outside the Arena. Have anything to say for yourself?”

The big blonde’s lips curled back over his fangs and for a brief moment he wanted to bite out that En Dwi could shove it up his ass but . . . he knew what would happen if he didn’t comply, the memory of the tattooing still very fresh in his mind and on his chest. Best tread smarter, “ . . . I’m sorry.”


The first thing Peter felt as he woke was warm, warm and weightless. The only thing keeping him in place was a hand on his lower back, serving as his anchor. Unwilling to open his eyes he whined, tucking his face further into the warmth as he scrunched up his face. When had he fallen asleep?

A shift of his hips, a jolt of pleasure, and he arched his back with a moan. Holy fuck ! His every nerve was alight, heat and arousal crackling like an electrical charge under every inch of his skin.  “Ngh!”

“Welcome back, baby boy. Did you have a good nap nap?” En Dwi whispered, rolling his hips. He had resisted movement the entire time Peter was asleep, allowing the sleeping man to simply warm his cock while he dealt with Victor.

Another jolt chased up Peter's spine and he groaned, fingers clinging tightly to En Dwi’s shoulders. He buried his face tight into the older man's neck, still unwilling to open his eyes while he felt so light. “O-Oh!” He gasped, his hips pushing down to chase the pleasurable sensation.

En gripped Peter’s hips with a firm, assuring pressure. “That’s it, baby boy. Ride me like it’s the only thing that matters in your world. Ride me til you’re full .” His cock throbbed, sending little bursts of hallucinogenic pleasure into Peter with every heartbeat.

The brunette shuddered violently, whining as his arousal spiked in the most delicious way. All he could focus on was the sound of the Grandmaster's voice in his ear and the pleasure that crashes over him in waves. His hips didn't stop from pushing down in a fast, almost desperate rhythm. “Please, oh please,” he whispered, though he had no idea what he was actually begging for.


“Why are you sorry?” the Grandmaster intoned in a mixture of curiosity and warning.

Victor’s teeth clenched and his pride reared back with what little strength it had left, but he managed to smash it down before he spoke again, “ . . . ’m sorry because,” His mind raced for the right phrasing that would keep him as intact as possible, “ . . . I . . . don’ know.” Well, at least he was telling the truth.

The Grandmaster ran a hand across Vic’s nipples. “You are sorry b e c a u s e you failed to bring pleasure and instead brought m e s s and p a i n. If I wanted an attack dog, I would have had someone hunt down the Hulk again.”

Victor’s eyebrow rose at that one, the Hulk, huh? He had to almost bite his tongue to remind himself that clever quips about how much the Grandmaster seemed to enjoy ‘pain’ and ‘messes’ weren’t going to win him any brownie points here so he kept very still and kept his eyes on the floor.

“Do you disagree, Victor?” En’s tone held no small amount of warning.

Victor shook his head quickly, “No.” C’mon, don’t piss him off more than you already have! Victor’s eyes scanned slowly over the things En had already had done to him and it took every ounce of control to stay as quiet and polite as possible. The ring in his throat bobbed as he swallowed, causing him to wince slightly.

“That’s good. I’d hate my new pet to earn more than one punishment so soon.” En’s hand roamed to cup Victor’s balls. “You know... I’m not sure about the size of these things.”

That made Victor’s head snap up and he held in a snarl, he breathed out harshly and stayed perfectly still. Size? Of his balls? The fuck was he on about? They were fine! Just fine! He wasn’t a fan of what’d been done to his dick, he sure as hell didn’t want his balls to suddenly be the size of grapefruits or whatever the fuck.

“I’ll have to think on it. Play with them a few times.” The Grandmaster let out a long-suffering sigh and squeezed. “I’ll just have to take one for the team, I guess. No time for that now, though. We’ve gotta get you trained, don’t we?”


The Grandmaster stroked down Peter’s spine rhythmically, shushing as he did. “Daddy’s going to give you everything you need. Don’t worry, baby boy.” His mouth found Peter’s pulse point and bit down hard enough he could taste a small splash of blood before sucking.

The sound of Peter's whispers tapered off into rough panting. Each stroke down his spine induced more shivers, his movements faltering so he could grind down with a needy sound. He rolled his head to the side, exposing his neck, and began to move a little steadier than before.

En reached down to fondle Peter’s cocklet and shrunken, recessed balls. “Good boy. Good boy. That’s it. Let me fill you up.”

Peter let out a higher pitched moan, the praise making him throb with so much more intensity. “F-Fuck, please… please Daddy-.”

The Grandmaster shot a heavy, hot load into Peter’s canal. “That’s right, baby boy. What’s my name?”

“D-Daddy!” En Dwi responded to the answer by taking over the pace as his wide, barbed cock filled up again. His teeth sunk further into Peter’s flesh, and a growl rumbled through his chest. The brunette went practically limp as En Dwi took over, mewling in delight as his prostate was struck dead on. Though he'd already answered the question, his answer became somewhat of a mantra, “Daddy… fuck, Daddy-!”

“Yes, baby boy. Yes! Tell Daddy exactly what you need!” En flipped them over so that Peter was on his back, head hanging off the end of the bed.

“You! Y-You!” Peter didn't even think of what he was saying, his head swimming from the position change as well as the drug in his system. His hands fell from En’s shoulders to clutch at the bed, clawing it would seem to ground himself in the sea of sensation.

En found himself coming again, a small swell warming the skin of Peter’s belly. “No, baby boy. You want to be f i l l e d . I’m your favourite filling,” he paused to lick the bite mark he’d made, “but you’re really just a cumslut, aren’t you?”

The question made Peter squirm, his cheeks flushed darkly as his eyes finally cracked open. He whimpered, biting his bottom lip hard while arching his back. He couldn't just out and say it, could he?


A door opened behind Vic, and the blonde’s head whipped around to try and see what was going on, he did not like the sound of that either. Fuck, nothing had sounded good since he’d woken up here! Victor’s mind whirled with flashbacks from how many long years he’d spent being under people’s thumbs and feet and . . . other things. He swallowed and looked at En uneasily, “ . . . trained?” 

He was pretty pissed that the word came out softer and squeakier than he was happy with.

“That’s right, pet. After all, what kind of owner would I be if I didn’t housetrain my new puppy?”

Victor jerked back and blanched, “I ain’t a fuckin’ puppy!”

A smug grin stretched across En Dwi’s face. “That’s right, there’s the real Victor. I knew you couldn’t be housebroken just yet.” He finally raised his eyes to look at his minion. “Take this filth to the doghouse. He’ll learn just fine there.” A thought tripped through his mind and out his mouth, “And maybe rack his balls, yeah?”

Victor snarled as he was approached and struggled once again with the cuffs that held his hands and feet firmly in place, “Think this is my first time in a cage? Fuck ya, I’ve survived worse!” They were empty, and embarrassingly high-pitched, words, Victor knew this but his fear wrestled with his weak pride while he hopelessly made plans of escape.

The minions attached a few hooks to his cables and cuffs before wheeling him out on a small crane-like fixture. Victor’s first real look at his surroundings was a bit less useful than he probably would have liked. Every small movement caused him to whirl in his bindings, even as the minions took tight corner after tight corner. And those people... they were looking at him like he was--bit of wind cooled his ass crack.

Victor had to clench his jaw to keep from gagging as his fuzzy, now-throbbing head tried to maintain while he swaying. He shook his head to clear and breathed through his nose, oh . . . fuck . . not again . . . His mouth opened and at first all that came out was a whine then he puked what little was left in his stomach onto the floor.

The minions ignored his mess entirely, merely continuing their droll way to a room that reeked off fear, sweat, and sex. Locking the wheels on his rack, they set about unlocking and opening compartments of a matte, black structure that did vaguely resemble a doghouse.

Victor spat and breathed heavily as he watched, “ . . . the fuck is that?” he asked no one in particular and he was fairly sure no one would answer anyway. True to his expectations, the minions seemed to complete their task of dismantling and unlocked his wheels again. They parked him again just a few feet away, face against a wall, and attached the collar with a six inch lead.


“Use your words , baby boy. Unless you want to be regressed?”

“N-No!” Peter whined, his eyes widening a little. He swallowed back a groan and his pride in one go, “I… I am-.” En pinched the end of his dick, a hint of warning and promise in his eyes. The smaller man yelped and stiffened, “I-I’m a cumslut!” He whimpered.

En groaned at the increased pressure on his cock, releasing the pressure on Peter’s tip. “That’s right, baby boy. And whose,” he gently ran a fingernail back and forth along the brunette’s slit, “cumslut are you?”

Peter trembled as the pressure on his tip lessened in favour of the gentle swipe of a fingernail. God he could feel how close he was. He clawed at the bed with his fingertips, “y-yours! Daddy, yours-!”

“That’s right, baby boy.” Peter’s entire cock fit in En’s palm now. Easily. The Grandmaster was overjoyed to be able fondle the limp flesh. “Squeeze me tight, Petey. You can still use some filling before you’re a Petey-Pie.”

“Oh god,” Peter visibly gulped, trembling as he tried to rock up into En Dwi's hand. His eyes were watery with his need, every breath drawing a whimper or a soft curse. He shuddered as a spasm hit him, so close to the edge but nowhere near enough as he clenched down tight.

“How kind of you, Petey, but I prefer D a d d y . Now hold on.” The pace he set was enough to cause microtears in Peter’s rectum from the barbs. Peter’s pain and pleasure receptors blended into one as the Grandmaster continued to fill him with psychoactives and cum. Every thrust caused Peter to practically wail, his heart pounding far too fast and his eyes shut tight. He choked on a moan, cocklet spasming as he was so damn close! 

En swirled his tongue into Peter’s ear, and pressed one finger in next to his penis in Peter’s asshole. “It’s okay, baby, you can come.”

“I… I-!” Peter didn't manage to get anything out, arching his back as he promptly came and let out a hoarse sob of something akin to yes and Daddy.


Victor was quiet as he assessed the situation, he had no idea what all this was but the smell in the room was telling him that it was bad, it was all very bad and he needed to get out of whatever was about to happen. The blonde tried to pull back only to choke on the ring, he needed to remember that was in there or he’d bleed out like last time.

At first, all he could hear was the regular, even breathing of the minions behind him. Then, dripping that increased into a steady, almost forceful flow.

Victor tried to look over his shoulder but grunted and hissed when the ring was pulled by the lead, his breathing became more rapid and panicked, he licked his dry lips and closed his eyes. “Just get it fuckin’ over with . . . “

A blunt, rubber tip pressed insistently at his entrance, dry and wide. He yelped loudly and his whole body jerked away from whatever that was. A sigh sounded behind him, the first sign that this particular batch of minions weren't actually synthetic. The tip shoved, finally making purchase. He breathed in sharply and groaned, that was a tight fit even after everything. Sure sign the healing factor had its goddamn priorities right.

The stream kicked up a notch and blasted him with hard, freezing needles of what might have been water, but who fucking knew in this place? It seemed determined to turn every cranny of his skin raw. Victor roared in pain but it soon became an agonized scream that then dwindled down to a whimpering sob, this just kept getting better and better.

After what could have been an eternity, the torrent relented. He could hear the pressure lessen again, but felt something nudging and almost twisting the plug that had been forced inside him. Victor’s chest heaved with relief then he grimaced, he wasn’t ready for more attractions of this hell he was now stumbling through. He spat again and blinked rapidly to get water out of his eyes, hair dripping and plastered to him.

It began as a trickle of ice running down his channel. The plug twisted some more, and suddenly there was a giggling brook of WINTER. UP HIS ASS. This time, Victor took a breath before screaming, and it was good, throat-tearing kind of scream, lots of build-up from the toes and out. The plug twisted a final time, and his inside were blasted with frigid water. A timer appeared on the wall in front of him: [45:00].


Several milkings and dry orgasms later, Peter fell asleep again. When he woke, he was alone in the room, head foggy and body thrumming with a sedate kind of pleasure. It took far too long for him to realize he couldn’t move more than his head. Something was wrong with his Spidey Sense. “Wha’...?” he mumbled, mouth seemingly refusing to cooperate completely in his current state. Panic fizzled at the edges of his mind, unpleasant and enough to make his chest tighten, and he tried to look around and get his bearings.

A minion in a demure apron-and-dress-combo reminiscent of 60’s nanny uniforms came up to the bedside and stroked his hair. “Daddy had to go to work, but he wanted to make sure you were well taken care of. Does Daddy’s Little Boy need some warm milk?” The minion pretended to tuck the blankets in closer, but Peter could feel the latex against his--hang on. Was he naked?

“N-No-,” the brunette whined, willing his body to do something to no avail. The panic had begun to shift into fright and humiliation all at once, his wide eyes shutting as he twisted his head to look away. He needed to get out of here, needed to get back home!

“Oh, don’t get upset, sweet boy. I know it’s difficult for Daddy to be away, but you’re a big boy, aren’t you? You’ll make Daddy proud?”

“Get away from me!” Peter snapped, hating how his voice trembled, “m’not anyone's 'sweet boy’-.” The NannyMinion(™) tsk ed and walked to a cabinet on the far side of the room, just out of Peter’s line of sight. He heard a faint fsh twice before she returned.

“Your Daddy told me you might be a little cross without him, but he won’t do for giving Nanny a bad time,” she admitted, something hidden in her hands.

“I don't care what Dadd-,” Peter twitched and shook his head, “what he told you! I couldn't care less!”

“We cannot abide by bad language in this household, Peter. You will refer to the Grandmaster with respect and his proper titles, or you will face the consequences.” A dildo. She was holding a dildo. White and creamy and kind of matte but also shiny? And o h  f u c k  she was bringing it toward his mouth. Why did it smell like soap?

“Get away!” Peter shouted, his eyes wide and a little glossy with panicked tears. God, he needed to move ! He wanted to crawl away out of reach but merely twitched where he lay. 

The NannyMinion™ pried his mouth open and inserted the dildo. It was definitely soap. Peter could feel the suds as she bobbed the fake cock in and out of his mouth, making sure to swirl occasionally and get every nook he might have otherwise kept free of the taste. But... it also tasted familiar. Almost like... why did the soap taste like Daddy ? “Now, I think you’re a good little boy. You’re just a bit scared. This is a new home. It will surely take some adjustment. But I’m here for you , Petey Pie.” The DaddySoapCock(™) touched the back of his throat a few times before it was finally pulled out.

Peter couldn't stop the tears slipping from his eyes to roll down his cheeks, coughing hoarsely as the dildo was pulled out and away. He didn't know whether to curse, scream, or cry as humiliation painted his cheeks crimson. The taste was lingering in his mouth no matter how much he wished it would fade, serving as a reminder for this apparent 'lesson’. The NannyMinion™ wiped the excess suds off his mouth and chin before returning to the cabinet. Returning with a look of compassion that just had to be fake, the NannyMinion™ murmured, “Would you like that warm milk now? Get the taste out?”

The answering nod was miniscule, one that probably wouldn't have been noticeable if the NannyMinion™ hadn't been paying attention. Well, this couldn't get much worse, he reasoned as a passing thought and closed his eyes.


Victor sobbed at the numbers, that could be any length of forty-five for all he fucking knew! The minions left the room and closed the door, leaving him in the relative silence to fill up. [43:38]

Victor breathed out shortly in relative relief, okay that wasn’t hours or something worse. Still his breathing was harsh and he was in so much pain that it wouldn't matter if it was milliseconds. Cramps wracked his already aching body. [65:14]

Victor squinted, wait . . . that couldn’t be right, he swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment then craned his neck to look again. [83:14] 

Naw, there was no way he was seeing it right, “H-Hey, what the fuck is with this?” He shouted, trying to see if there was anyone around but either they weren’t talking or he was alone. [24:53:00:00]


When Peter woke again, he realized that the warm milk must have been laced; he barely even remembered drinking it. Now, his bladder felt like it was about to burst. The sensation was not just uncomfortable but borderline painful, the pressure persistent no matter how he tried to squirm. The slightly distressed whine that left him was much higher than he'd anticipated, embarrassingly so. Oh god, he had to go !

The NannyMinion™ rushed to his bedside and stroked sweaty hair out of his face. “What’s wrong, sweet boy?”

There was no room for pride, not at that moment. “I… oh fuck, I gotta go-,” Peter whimpered, his face twisting in embarrassed desperation.

“Oh, Peter,” the NannyMinion™ sounded a bit disappointed, “you’re a big boy; I’m sure you can wait until morning.” There wasn’t a single thing in the windowless room to indicate passage of time.

“I-I’m not kidding, I need to go!” Peter hissed, glaring up at the NannyMinion™ in his frustration.

The NannyMinion™ chuckled and patted his cheek. “You’ll be okay, Petey Pie. It’s not time to get out of bed yet. Your Daddy said you might get bored and have trouble sleeping, though, so let me give you a little helper.” A low-grade vibration began to tease his prostate.

“No, I-,” Peter tried to insist, tried to demand or even beg for some small shred of mercy in this instance, but as soon as the vibrations began he shuddered and bit back a moan. He couldn't deal with that right now, not with the persistent throb of his bladder. “You don't seem to get it, I -ngh- need to go !”

“Hmm... he said you might need to be filled so you’d feel like a proper Petey Pie,” the NannyMinion™ walked to the cabinets out of sight again, and Peter could hear shuffling.

“What… what are you doing?! Why won't you listen?” Peter snapped, distress making his voice rise an octave. Every attempt to squirm and fight the pressure on his bladder only rocked him against the vibrations.

The NannyMinion™ didn’t respond verbally, just returned with a contraption he was too out of it to recognize until there was already a cock in his mouth and straps around the back of his head. The taste was rather pleasant, and despite--or maybe because of--his stress, Peter found himself sucking immediately. He suckled against it, eyes shut tight to prevent any more embarrassing tears, and practically keened as he realised he wasn't going to be able to hold back much longer. No… no! His bladder tried to release, but nothing came out, and the pressure only increased. If anything, the inside of his penis itched a bit. The sounds of distress morphed into confusion, his eyes shooting open to try and seek out the NannyMinion™ in desperation. What was happening?! He heard a door close and realized he had been left completely alone this time.


Victor’s eyes widened and filled with tears, his breathing came out in loud whines, confusion and fear filling his every thought as he was just left there. His stomach clenched and he squirmed, hands and feet long since fallen asleep. The slosh from his squirming did nothing to help the pain. If anything, he'd only made the situation in his gut worse. [33:48]


Somehow, Peter had managed to fall asleep again. This time, he woke up warm, wet, and itchy. He squirmed sluggishly, letting out a huff through his nose as his mind caught up. It didn't take him too long to realise what exactly had happened; he'd wet the bed. Peter hadn't felt this vulnerable, this small , in years and he felt the tears building as he let out a sob.

Peter had no idea how long he was left sobbing in his own urine, but it felt almost dry by the time Daddy came back to the room. “Oh, baby boy. What’s the matter?” The brunette couldn't do anything but cry, too overcome by shame and the urge to hide. Tears streamed down his face and he cringed visibly, uncomfortable through and through. En took an overdramatic breath in through his nose. “Oh, my poor baby. You had an accident?” The words said aloud only distressed Peter more, his sobbing picking up and becoming harsher. He was not a child… he wasn't! He hadn't had an 'accident’ since he was young, damn it! He squirmed to the best of his abilities again, unable to meet En's eye.

En moved to the opposite side of the room. Shortly after, Peter could hear some water running. The sound was almost enough for him to stop crying, his head twisting to try and see what the elder man was doing. The water turned off, and the Grandmaster returned. “Okay, baby boy. Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

The latex holding Peter down loosened, and suddenly there was a hand slipping under his bare ass. Peter let out a sound of embarrassment and realised he could move. He wiped at his eyes slowly then reached for the Grandmaster, an inexplicable need for physical contact plaguing him. En scooped him up like he still weighed less than 90 pounds and kissed his cheek. “That’s my sweet boy. We’ll get you nice and cleaned up. Then you can cuddle in Daddy’s bed for the rest of your nap.”

The Grandmaster took Peter to a big bubble bath with toys and gently lowered him in. The younger man was still sniffling and wide eyed, but he seemed pacified as the warmth of the water enveloped him and he was met with the sight of bubbles everywhere. He swept a hand through them hesitantly, slowly starting to calm down.

En made sure to wash him thoroughly, slipping a finger in and around every bit of his bindings. “You’re almost 8, baby boy. You really can’t be wetting the bed any more.”

Peter's face scrunched up in confusion as he watched En. 8? What was he talking about, he wasn't nearly 8, he was… wait. How old was he again? He whined in the back of his throat softly. “No, Petey Pie. We’ve got to figure out how to solve this. You’ll always be my baby boy, but you’re not a  b a b y anymore, are you?” Peter hesitated before shaking his head, looking down at the bubbles around him.

“Alright then. Well, first thing is to get you clean and rested. Stand up for me, baby boy. We need to clean your poo poo hole.” Peter huffed through his nose and rubbed at his face with a wet hand, climbing to his feet and continuing to look down shyly. “That’s it, sweet boy.” En removed the dildo and swirled his finger gently along the inside of Peter’s ass. “If you help me, I’ll take the baby pacifier out. You don’t really need that anymore, do you? Big boys want the real thing.” The brunette shivered and shook his head again, whimpering at the feeling of the man's digit. “Then help , baby boy. You can feel what I’m doing. Do it for yourself.” En removed his fingers. 

Peter took a deep breath and leaned a little on the side of the bath, hesitating a little before he reached a hand back and slowly inserted a finger, then another. It felt weird doing this, not painful but… weird. He glanced at En and tried to remember what he'd felt, mimicking what he could at a slower pace.

“That’s it, baby boy. Find the place inside that makes everything light up. It’s the dirtiest spot. Have to scrub it clean until all the mess comes out.”

Peter furrowed his brows and concentrated, the slightest flash of a pink tongue at the corner of his mouth appearing. Why was it hard to coordinate? He manoeuvred his fingers carefully, curling them just so and inhaling sharply as he hit that spot. He let out a shaky sounding moan, his free hand clinging to the side of the tub as he did as he was told and rubbed.

Behind him, En Dwi undressed, rubbing his bulge as he watched. Eventually, he moved in front of Peter and smiled, “I think I promised you the real thing if you were a good boy for me, hmm?” En made quick work of the face harness. The moment it was gone Peter worked his jaw and bit into his bottom lip softly, cheeks warming to a soft pink as he nodded.

En stepped into the water, still rubbing himself. “Do you want a little bath time cuddle, baby?”

“Yes,” Peter sighed, going to pull his fingers out and hesitating before rubbing one more time, “D-Daddy.” There was no drug in his system that could make it as easy as it was to give in, nothing that would make this choice seem… normal. Yet, it was to some part of Peter's mind.

En’s face stretched in a huge grin. “That’s my boy.”


Victor squeezed his eyes shut tighter as his head began to throb, his heartbeat thrumming in his ears as he tried to keep some semblance of sanity, not that he’d had much to begin with. The numbers swirled and changed colors before his eyes as auras filled his vision. {£¥:@$}


The next time Peter awoke, he was warm, dry and feeling strangely content. He didn't even open his eyes, encased in darkness and feeling safe that way. That was until he realised he was suckling something, giving the softest of hums as he did so. A thought fluttered across his mind, fleeing into the darkness. A thought of escape, of running away… but it only confused him. Why would he leave? He was safe here, safe and warm. As though settled by the realisation he suckled firmer, wriggling to get more comfortable.

En woke slowly, his cock growing in Peter’s mouth. Once his mind was clear enough to realize what had woken him, he chuckled and teased, “Such an eager boy, my little Petey Pie is. So good for Daddy.” Careful not to jostle the boy, he reached for a small remote that lay on his nightstand. A few button presses, and the vibrator in Peter’s cock switched on--just barely low enough to avoid overstimulation. The brunette gasped softly, wiggling a little and then settling back down. His head continued to bob gently, eyes closed, the praise washing over him and causing him to moan around En’s growing erection.

En stroked through Peter’s hair and stretched out his legs, toes spread wide toward the naked boy. Eventually, he found what he was looking for and began stroking the web-slinger’s tiny cock with his toes. He could barely repress a giggle as the vibration tickled his webbing. Bright eyes looked up at the Grandmaster as Peter felt fingers in his hair, a pleased hum slipping from his lips. When the man's toes brushed against his cock he whined, pulling his head up a little to lap at the tip slowly; not once did he break eye contact. “I’m planning your birthday party, baby boy. Getting your present ready.”

“It's… my birthday soon?” Peter mumbled, sounding confused though there was a flash of childish excitement in his eyes he couldn't hide. Not from Daddy.

“Of course it is, baby boy! You’re turning eight! All the minions will be there. Plus your present,” En crooned.

There was an urge in the back of Peter's mind. Something he couldn't quite understand anymore, something that only persuaded him to nuzzle against Daddy's thigh as though it would push the strange urge away. He let out a giggle, blinking up at En Dwi and smiling, “what is it, Daddy? Tell me, please?” He dragged out the please, followed by more giggling.

“No no no, baby boy. Presents are s u r p r i s e s . If you ruin the surprise, the present has to go back where it came from.” The madman laughed, his entire body shaking with mirth. “We wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

The boy's answering shake of his head was unsurprising as he stared up at the laughing man with wide eyes, his lips curling into a pout instinctively. With a shy smile he settled back down, obviously still excited by the sudden energy he was displaying as he took En's cock back into his mouth; it was as though it were the most natural thing in the world suddenly.


Nope. No, fuck that! Victor felt a bloom of pain erupt across the front of his skull just behind his eyes as a mother of a migraine crawled up and nested in his brain. “No . . ." he whined softly, chewing his tongue enough that blood dripped down his chin. {£€:¢§}


A while later, En coaxed Peter off of his cock and led him to a mostly hidden door in the wall. Opening the door revealed a tiny shower, barely big enough for Peter to climb in. It had a rainfall style showerhead built into the ceiling, and a phallic attachment sticking out of the wall. If Peter’s mind had still been working like an adult’s, he might have noticed that there was a hole in the tip… or that it was made of silicone. “Sometimes, Petey Pie, we have to get clean, but there’s not enough time to have a bubble bath.”

Peter was pretty quiet as he listened, watching the older man with growing curiosity. He looked from En Dwi to the showerhead and then to the attachment, brow wrinkling in confusion. He didn't know what that meant, not for him. He sucked against his lower lip, waiting for his Daddy to continue explaining.

“You know how sometimes we cuddle with your poo poo hole instead of your mouth?” He waited for Peter to answer affirmatively before continuing, “I need you to cuddle the shower, baby boy.”

Cuddle the… shower? Peter squirmed a little and sucked against his lip a little harder, his cheeks turning pink. He'd do as he's told for his Daddy, but it didn't mean he wasn't a little anxious about it for some inexplicable reason. He gave a shy little nod, showing that he understood what he was told.

“Go on, baby boy,” En whispered into his ear, applying gentle pressure against the boy’s bum. “You need to be clean so you can meet my friends before the party.”

The younger man gave a whine, tipping his head closer to the whispers in his ear as he did as he was told. It took a couple of clumsy attempts, but soon Peter was seated on or 'cuddling’ the shower just as he had been told. The sensation made him shiver, a whine slipping as he looked down at himself. A gentle pressure built up in his ass. It felt… kind of like when Daddy came, but slower. Like if he came in himself. But that would be silly. Above him, the water cascaded. “You don’t stay still when we cuddle, do you, Petey Pie?”

“N-No, Daddy,” Peter shivered, raising a hand and pushing his hair back as he shifted his hips; guessing that's what he should do. Just like when he and Daddy cuddled. It felt weird, the full feeling in his ass making him moan softly and he slowly gained more confidence in his movements. “L-Like this?”

“That’s it, baby boy. So good for Daddy,” En grinned before getting out some soap and washing his boy down. “So Daddy will be good to you.”

******

Time slipped by in a whirlwind of nonsensical timers and one of the worst migraines he'd ever experienced - - side effect of the drugs maybe? - - until a shrill, repetitive beeping filled the room. {®®:®®}


Once Peter was fully dried off from his CuddleShower(™), the NannyMinion(™) took him back to his room to get him dressed. The outfit, if it could be called that, was an odd little bikini-like thing made of blue, metal webbing. To Peter's far from adult mind it was a bit confusing to put on, so he didn't kick up any fuss when the NannyMinion™ took over and dressed him; he even said a rather shy, “Thank you.”

NannyMinion™ paused for a moment before continuing to dress him, as though the boy hadn’t even said a word. It connected his vibrating nipple rods directly to the bikini top. He hadn’t realized before that they were painted a shiny blue. It wasn't too long before Peter stood there in his chosen attire, looking at himself in curious wonder. His fingers idly stroked over some of the webbing, a happy little hum following as he gave the NannyMinion™ a small smile. This was… pretty nice.

En opened the door, holding a gift box. “I’m giving you part one of the birthday surprise early. Do you want to open it?”

Peter practically bounced over, eyes wide and shiny with excitement as he flashed a grin at En, “C-can I?” He asked shyly, “please?”

“Of course, baby boy. Would Daddy tease you like that?” The Grandmaster held out the box with as much grandeur as he generally announced contestants in the Arena. The display earned quiet laughter from the brunette before he took the box and he wasted no time. With the impatience of a child at Christmas he opened the box, peering inside with a grin and letting out a sound that sounded like ooh!

Inside was a thick, leather posture collar with blue webbing that surrounded a spider in the middle. “No one will think they can take you when you’re wearing this, baby boy. E v e r y o n e  will know that you’re my boy. Want to wear it?”

“Please!” Peter could feel that weird urge at the back of his head but it went ignored, too focused on the collar and the look on En Dwi’s face. How much he had changed in such a short time, how natural it seemed to become this. Become Daddy's good boy.

En grinned and set the box down so he could secure the collar around Peter’s neck. “Now, this next part may hurt a little, baby boy, but it’s to protect you. We can’t have anyone removing this collar and trying to steal you, okay?”

“Okay,” Peter nodded with as much seriousness as he could muster, standing perfectly still and preparing himself for the hurt that En Dwi had mentioned. He began to suck his bottom lip once again. At the back of his neck, a line of heat grew from low-grade to scalding. The hair there sizzled, and the room stunk a bit, but the seam of the collar was closing almost perfectly even. His face scrunched up with the pain, hands clenching at his sides as he did his utmost best to stay as still as possible even now as he wanted to jerk away from the pain, an involuntary whimper slipping out.

“It’s okay, baby. Daddy just wants to make sure you’re happy and his forever. You’ll never feel that pain again, okay?”

“Y-Yes Daddy,” he whispered, still incredibly tense.

“Daddy can share, though. Time to make some friends,” he enthused, a hand urging Peter toward the door. “Oh… but you don’t know where we’re going yet. NannyMinion™! Bring me the leash!”

Peter looked up at En Dwi then watched the NannyMinion™ scramble to do as they were told, bringing the item to the Grandmaster and holding it out to him. The end of the “leash” didn’t seem to have a hook or loop, just a knobby end with eight, perfectly symmetrical rectangles. The Grandmaster held the leash up to the spider and grinned as each of the spider’s legs curved out of the collar proper to latch onto one of the rectangular holes. Once secured, he gave it a little test tug. “There we are. Just follow my lead, Petey Pie.”


The door opened again, and a horde of minions stormed in. Blood and drool oozed down Victor’s chin as he sobbed at the floor, his head hurt so bad and each footstep from all the way down the hall echoed in his head. The tiniest bit of light that got through his squeezed-shut eyelids was far too bright and if he hadn’t already thrown up, he’d have done so.

He was lowered and tilted so that his head was close to the ground than his ass, which did nothing to help his pain. Slowly, the plug/nozzle seemed to widen. He felt so full and his guts were painful tight, he groaned when he realized he was being stoppered up like a wine bottle, “Fuck! Take it out . . . god, take it out!”

The widening stopped, but before he could draw in a breath of relief, he felt a slight pressure and then a plop of colder and weight. Was that... ice? VIctor opened his eyes, first mistake, then yelled in surprise, second mistake, and tried to move, the worst mistake. His head felt like it’d been spun like a top and he tucked his chin into his chest to regain his senses, “M-My head . . . please . . . god . . ."

36 total spheres of ice were deposited before they finally detached him from the wall and wheeled him over to the black contraption in the middle of the room. A blindfold made of some thick, silky fabric that had to be alien wrapped around his head and seemed to mold itself to his eyes. Victor whimpered, it wasn’t exactly total relief but at least it was dark, he felt a tension knot building in the muscles on the back of his neck and back.

Something was attached to the back of his collar and the piercing just under his balls. It felt like metal and was at least mostly hard as fuck. Victor grunted uncertainly and tried, without moving too much, to shift and figure out what the hell they were doing.


En led Peter into a giant observation room filled with people. Most were clearly minions, but a few seemed like they were there of their own free will. Many turned to eye Peter with clear interest. Peter seemed to shrink into himself as he followed En Dwi, catching a few people's eyes and then glancing away again. That persistent urge was back a little stronger and he bit into his bottom lip, letting the sting take his mind off of it. What were they doing here? “Do you see how excited all these people are to meet you, Petey Pie? If you’re good for me while I work and make friends, they’ll all come to your birthday party.”

Peter hesitated to respond, nervous of the attention as he swallowed and geared his mouth to work, “How… how do I know if I can do it, Daddy? M-Make friends with them?”

“Oh sweet boy, you’re too perfect! You just have to be yourself. Give them cuddles, do what they say, and show them that sweet smile of yours. And if the spider lets go of the leash, you run right back to me, okay, baby boy? The spider knows who’s safe.” The Grandmaster didn’t give Peter a chance to respond before the boy was almost swallowing En’s tongue.

Peter had opened his mouth to respond, though whether to ask another question or simply agree he'd never know as En kissed him. He let out a sweet, pleased sound and the tension drained from his body, even some he hadn't known he had been holding. He could do this; if the Grandmaster told him he could, he knew it was true.

En handed the leash off to a being with purple skin, 8 nipples, and a giant swath of tentacles instead of legs. Once the transfer was made, he broke away from the boy with a wink, and turned to the stadium in front of them.

Peter watched En go and bit back a needy whine, instead clearing his throat and taking a deep breath. He repeated his Daddy's words in his head and turned to the being he had been handed off to, lips curling into one of his shyest smiles. He could make friends, he'd make En proud.


He was lowered into a sort of harness and the cabling holding him hogtied was let loose. Victor jolted slightly at the change, his senses were so out of whack that he couldn’t tell what was going on mostly. And goddamn if his head could hurry up and stop throbbing, that’d be great, “The fuck are ya doin’?”

In response, someone grabbed his lips and pulled, deftly sticking something wide, hard, and slightly curved past his teeth before he could react. Victor choked and sputtered, rearing his head back but whoever had him had a strong grip and after a moment he remembered to breathe through his nose and relax. He thought belatedly, and randomly, that he should have pissed on the floor back in En Dwi’s room, wanted a goddamn ‘puppy’, Victor’d give him one.

A spider gag was forced into his mouth, keeping it splayed open. Something closed on the back of his neck, giving him the feeling of medieval stockades.

Clamps were attached to nearly all of his piercings, and his knees were secured into place about shoulder width apart. More of the strange contraption locked around him. Victor moaned around the gag as blood rushed to his hands and feet, setting them off with pins and needles, but relief was short-lived when he felt the clamps on his piercings were attached to something.

The final piece to the box closed, pinching and displaying his ass to anyone who might take a gander. Victor grunted and couldn’t move, okay the breeze on his hindquarters was kind of unpleasant, as was the drool and blood that was caked to his face but . . . okay, he could do this. An enforcer clamp was slid behind his legs and his balls were grabbed and stretched into it then it clamped down, holding them back while a spiked cage was fitted over the trapped testicles. A pair of cuffs were fitted to his ankles then a short chain was used to connect the bar to the cuffs. Any amount of lowering his legs from that position pulled his balls into the spiked cage.

An unfamiliar, plausibly female voice addressed him, "I am going to remove your plug. If you release any of the liquid or training ice, you will be punished. Nod if you understand."

Victor managed to tilt his head slightly to one side, then it dawned on him and he whined loudly before shaking his head. Oh no, nope, not that. Not today. No.

"Your desires matter not, beast. You will learn to stay full as long as required." The plug was yanked out far more quickly than it was shoved in. VIctor had all of a minute before he clenched everything in him and sobbed, oh no . . . no, god, fuck, why? He wasn’t gonna last for much, that was for damn sure so, “FUG OO!”

Electricity coursed into his piercings, and that damned voice spoke again, "Good bitches don't talk unless told to. Did anyone tell you to speak?"

Victor’s body jolted and he felt something wet sliding out of his ass, fuck! He whined loudly again and shook his head. He tried to make himself as small as possible, this wasn’t going to be fun.

After about an hour, the water had completely emptied from Vic's bowels. He was pretty sure he still had a gut full of "training ice" and that his piercings were made of electricity now. A fist pushed its way into his rectum and moved some things around... yup. Definitely still a lot of ice. Victor was sagging in the restraints, mouth dry from heavy breathing and screaming, his head was just pounding to the point where he couldn’t hear anymore and his vision was probably blurred only he couldn’t see thanks to the blindfold.